


A Sworn Maiden in Arcadia

by MrRhapsodist



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Animal Transformation, Bittersweet Ending, F/F, Fairy Tale Retellings, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Queer Character, Zeus Being an Asshole (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24170197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrRhapsodist/pseuds/MrRhapsodist
Summary: A retelling of the story of Artemis and Callisto, and what passed between them in the woods.
Relationships: Artemis/Callisto (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	A Sworn Maiden in Arcadia

**Author's Note:**

> This story is courtesy of playing through _Hades_ by Supergiant Games, and loving the dynamic between Artemis and Zagreus. I had always wanted to tell this myth in my own way, but I never had inspiration until now. Enjoy!

Callisto, daughter of King Lycaon of Arcadia, knew she was meant for great things. She did not grow up content in the palace, but wanted to escape its marble walls and run bare-breasted into the wild. She would growl and snap at her nurse, and she would track dirt across the floors to her mother’s despair.

But upon her thirteenth birthday, on the eve of Brauronia, Callisto received a gift from a priestess at the shrine of Artemis. Standing with her royal father, the young maiden had knelt and received a laurel crown. Harken, cried the priestess, putting her hand on the girl’s brow. The goddess of the hunt had offered a vision, and she had chosen Callisto for her retinue.

 _Be free,_ said the oracle, _for you have the she-bear’s spirit and it cannot be contained any longer._

Her mother wept. Her father protested, and for a night, the priestess was dragged away in chains. But when he fell ill, Callisto pleaded at his bedside to let her go forth.

“Father, please,” Callisto begged. “We cannot defy the will of Artemis Agrotera.”

“Your words taste bitter, but they ring true in my ears,” answered Lycaon. “I regret this day, child. Pray you do not find yourself doing the same.”

* * *

She was left on the edge of the forest, with neither a guard nor a companion. Wolves howled in the distance, and birds twittered in the branches overhead. Callisto waited until she heard a rustle in the grass. A snapping branch, a clap of hooves in the dirt, and what emerged from around the farthest bough was a gentle deer. It paused and regarded Callisto for some time before it crept toward her, head low. Nudging her arm, the beast turned and trotted back the way it had come.

Callisto followed. She knew the deer was sacred to Artemis, much like the mighty bear and the wild boar.

She followed it into a grove deep within the woods, where rough voices sang and laughed. But it was not men she found there, but other maidens. They were bare-breasted and sunburnt, with flowers in their hair and honey on their skin. They wore furs and gowns, and they drank nectar from frothing cups as one girl after another shared a story of some mighty hunt.

Artemis sat among them, restringing her bow and ignoring the women who laughed and drank. She kept her head low, with brooding eyes and long, wild hair that ran across her shoulders. A mere tug from her hands bent the bow into its proper shape, and across the grove, Callisto heard it singing with arrows flying across the meadows and woods of the goddess’s domain. She saw golden and silver arrows in a quiver, resting by the fair lady’s side, and she treasured the sight of them against the joy rising in her breast.

“You’ve come to me,” said Artemis. Looking up, she beckoned Callisto toward her. “Good.”

Callisto could say nothing. She knelt, and the goddess stroked long fingers through her hair. Without protest, she let her head be drawn into the huntress’s lap. She let nymphs and maids feed her nectar and ambrosia, and she knew at once divine joy now quickened in her veins. Artemis said nothing in turn, but her tender gaze on Callisto’s face was the bliss she’d long desired.

* * *

Years passed, and they began to hunt together. To ride in a chariot drawn by swift and strong deer, with Artemis slipping her arm around Callisto’s waist, laughing as she drove her deer onward. To bathe in a secret lake near the sacred grove, where mortals would die if they dared to look upon them. To know the joy of the bow and the spear, letting them fly toward hares and boars for the night’s feast with the other maidens.

And it was at night, when the moon was high overhead, that Callisto knew another pleasure. To be summoned to the bed of her goddess, who unbuckled her girdle and set loose her gown. To be taken to bed, ravished, and adored.

“You are my maidens,” Artemis whispered in Callisto’s ear. “You are forsworn to be chaste to every man, be he mortal or divine. But at a word from me, you will blossom with love.”

“I hear only your word,” Callisto replied, and she fell into a blissful slumber at her lady’s side.

* * *

It was in the late spring that she heard Artemis singing while she bathed. Callisto knew her voice, even from across the entire Arcadian wilderness. She drew near, and she came to the edge of the lake, where Artemis stood naked and free, scrubbing away the dirt from her skin.

It was Artemis’s voice, but her eyes had changed. It was not the hard, weary gaze of the huntress, but the soft, beckoning blush of another maiden. So enraptured was Callisto that she plunged into the icy water. It foamed and bubbled around her, and she sprang into her goddess’s embrace. Their lips met, but it was not a soft kiss. These were hard lips, and when Callisto looked into those eyes, she saw only a hard, hungry stare looking back.

She felt wrong, but those gentle kisses soothed her fears. Even as the huntress’s hands gripped her, dragging her across the lake and pinning her arms against the grassy shore, she did not resist. Even as a harsh voice thundered in her ear, she did not fight back. Feeling tight between her legs, feeling something pierce her through, she winced and cried out, but a strong hand covered her mouth and pinched her nose.

It was not the hand of her goddess. Of that, she was certain.

When it was over, Callisto lay alone and bleeding on the edge of the lake. She wept into her hands, as the shadow retreated for the woods. She caught only a glimpse of its true radiance before it disappeared, with mocking laughter in its wake.

The other sworn maidens found her sick and cold near the sacred lake. Their once-bright eyes had turned cold, and with cruel voices, they mocked and berated their newfound sister. They prodded at the dirt around her with their spears, and she felt the edge of one slice in her thigh. They laughed and spat, and they dragged her to the grove, where their mistress would judge.

 _Callisto the Fair,_ they sang. _Callisto the Bear! Make her a prize to be hunted!_

If she had been given permission, she could have died without help. Her shame ran deep, chilling her veins like the nectar she had drank upon her initiation. But Artemis would not permit it.

“Hear me, Callisto, whom I loved so dearly,” said the huntress. Her hair was long and tangled, and her eyes burned with the heat of fresh coal. “I know the truth of the matter. You did not seek to break your vow to me. Your chastity was taken. This much, I can forgive. But the vow is broken, and Zeus the Avenger will hold it against me.”

She carried out the sentence herself, but unseen to the other nymphs, Artemis winked at Callisto. Stripping the maiden of her clothing and her bow, she covered the wretched soul in dirt and twigs. With a shout toward Olympus, Artemis caused her to be transformed. Her hands grew claws, and hair sprouted across her body. Her mouth contorted with weeping, turning into the muzzle of a bear, and soon enough her tears turned to a mournful howl that echoed through all the woods of Arcadia. It was heard even in the temple of Artemis, where the priestess who had received a vision now wept with shame. It was heard in the halls of the old king Lycaon, who shuddered and raced to offer sacrifices to the lady of the hunt.

With paws that clawed at the dirt of the sacred grove, Callisto howled and wept. She broke free, and Artemis pursued, spear in hand. The other maidens raced to follow, but a sharp retort from the lady kept them back.

* * *

When Artemis found Callisto, weary and broken near the lake, she knelt by the side of the bear. Touching its fur, nuzzling its neck, she sighed and shed tears of her own.

“Be not afraid, my love, my pet,” said Artemis. “Be free. For you have the she-bear’s spirit and you cannot be contained any longer.”

Callisto could not respond, but howl lowly beside the lake. Deep in her thoughts, memories stirred of the vicious assault she’d endured, and she wished only to rake at those pinning hands with newfound claws and strength.

“You are not lost, my love,” Artemis insisted. Her hand reached toward the bear’s head, leaving several caresses there. “Zeus must see you as this and nothing more. Nemesis the Inescapable must not suspect you forgiven for breaking your vows. Do you hear me, sweet Callisto?”

Callisto heard, and for a moment, she was no longer a bear, but a maiden again, naked and crying in her goddess’s arms.

She let the lady of the hunt cut a strand of hair from her head, and she did not resist when Artemis slid the head of her spear along her arm, catching blood on its tip. She knew it must be. She knew it was the way of the gods, that even their own loves must break their hearts to keep the world in order. Even as a little girl, left alone in the woods, she had sensed the gap between the mortal world and the divine aura above. To be left on the threshold as an orphan, given over to a wild and willful goddess.

Artemis kissed her brow. She made Callisto a bear once more. Giving a gentle nudge, she bade her secret maiden to hide deeper in the woods.

With a grunt and a charge, she galloped off into the deepest thickets. With a bear’s nose and ears, she smelled fresh prey and heard the cries of birds who kept watch from their nests. There in the woods lay hares in their den. There in rivers and lakes were fish to be caught.

Callisto knew once more the joy of the hunt.

And once a season, after a long hunt, she heard the goddess singing, and she knew where to hide, that Artemis might make her a maiden once more.


End file.
